The abduction of a sitting High Court judge from his home ought to shake any nation to its core. When the news broke that Hon. Justice Faruku Hassan Bunza of the Kebbi State High Court had reportedly been kidnapped by armed men who stormed his residence in the early hours of the morning, it was yet another grim reminder that Nigeria’s insecurity has entered a dangerous new phase.
For years, kidnapping was often perceived as a crime directed at wealthy individuals, politicians, expatriates or business owners. It then spread to schoolchildren, farmers, commuters, religious leaders and traditional rulers. Today, it has become a national epidemic that recognises no social status, profession or geography. Judges, doctors, professors, security personnel, clergy, market women and ordinary citizens have all become potential targets.
Perhaps the most disturbing aspect is no longer that kidnappings occur, but that they have become so frequent that they barely shock us anymore. The nation has gradually become desensitised to stories that should ordinarily provoke outrage and sustained national action. We mourn briefly, express sympathy, await the payment of ransom or rescue, and then move on until the next victim appears in the headlines.
This cycle cannot continue.
A Crisis Beyond Crime
The kidnapping of a judicial officer is not merely an attack on one individual or one family. It is an assault on the very institutions that uphold the rule of law. Judges represent the authority of the state. When criminals can invade the home of a serving judge with apparent ease, the message sent to the public is deeply unsettling: no one is beyond the reach of criminal gangs.
More importantly, it exposes the frightening confidence with which armed groups now operate across Nigeria. Whether described as kidnappers, bandits, terrorists or criminal gangs, their methods have become increasingly sophisticated. They gather intelligence on their victims, exploit weak security networks, move across state boundaries with relative freedom and often negotiate ransoms with little fear of arrest.
The distinction between kidnapping, banditry and terrorism has also become increasingly blurred. Criminal groups have diversified their operations, combining cattle rustling, village raids, illegal mining, arms trafficking and mass abductions into highly profitable enterprises.
Kidnapping has effectively become an industry, sustained by access to sophisticated weapons, weak intelligence coordination, porous borders and limited consequences for perpetrators. This is not new; it’s a fact that has been stated many times in different ways.
The consequences extend far beyond the immediate victims. Farmers abandon their lands for fear of attack. Businesses relocate or shut down. Investors become wary. Schools close in vulnerable communities. Health workers decline rural postings. Judicial officers, teachers and civil servants hesitate to serve in high-risk locations. Communities become isolated, local economies collapse, and public confidence in government steadily erodes.
Insecurity is therefore no longer simply a security problem. It has become a development problem, an economic problem and, increasingly, a governance problem. The vast ungoverned spaces in Nigeria make it easy for the perpetrators to gain ground daily.
The Limits of the Current Approach
Nigeria’s security agencies have undoubtedly recorded notable successes. Numerous hostages have been rescued, including the more recent rescue of school children and teachers in Oyo State. Several notorious criminal leaders have been neutralised. Security personnel continue to make enormous sacrifices, often under extremely difficult conditions.
Yet these tactical victories have not translated into strategic success. There have also been casualties, including the Oyo school teachers, several security personnel and retired Major General Rabe Abubakar, a former defence spokesperson, who died in bandit captivity from medical complications on June 13, 2026, after being abducted alongside his wife in Katsina State.
The persistence of kidnappings suggests that our current security architecture is struggling to stay ahead of rapidly evolving threats. Criminal networks adapt quickly, while state institutions often remain constrained by fragmented intelligence systems, overlapping mandates, bureaucratic procedures and inadequate technological capabilities.
Much of our security response remains reactive. Security personnel frequently arrive after attacks have occurred rather than preventing them through timely intelligence. Communities repeatedly warn of suspicious movements, yet these warnings are not always translated into swift preventive action.
Technology also remains underutilised. Across the world, modern policing increasingly relies on surveillance systems, drones, digital forensics, biometric databases, predictive analytics and integrated intelligence platforms. Nigeria has made progress in some of these areas, but deployment remains uneven, and coordination across agencies continues to pose significant challenges.
Equally important is the question of accountability. Criminals thrive where prosecution is weak, investigations are slow, and convictions are uncertain. Justice delayed not only denies closure to victims but also emboldens perpetrators.
We must therefore move beyond viewing kidnapping as isolated criminal incidents. It requires a coordinated national strategy that integrates intelligence, policing, military operations, justice sector reforms, technology and community participation into one coherent framework.
Rethinking National Security
Nigeria needs more than additional checkpoints, military deployments or periodic security operations. It needs a fundamentally different approach to national security.
First, intelligence must become the centrepiece of security operations. Preventing attacks is always preferable to responding after lives have already been endangered. Better intelligence gathering, real-time information sharing among agencies and stronger collaboration with local communities can significantly improve early warning systems.
Second, technology should become a force multiplier. Wider deployment of surveillance cameras in urban centres, drone monitoring of vulnerable corridors, improved communications infrastructure and integrated criminal databases would substantially enhance operational effectiveness.
Third, community-based security deserves greater attention. Residents often know when unfamiliar persons arrive, when suspicious camps emerge or when criminal activities begin to take root. Building trust between communities and security agencies encourages timely reporting and improves local intelligence.
Fourth, tackling the financial incentives behind kidnapping is essential. Criminal enterprises flourish because they generate enormous profits. Disrupting financial networks, tracing ransom payments, targeting money laundering channels and dismantling supply chains for arms and logistics should become integral components of national security strategy.
Finally, Nigeria must address the underlying conditions that enable criminal recruitment. Poverty alone does not create criminals, but widespread unemployment, weak education systems, social exclusion and limited economic opportunities provide fertile ground for organised crime to recruit young people into violent networks. Security and development are therefore inseparable. Lasting peace requires both effective law enforcement and inclusive economic growth.
The Hon. Justice Bunza’s abduction should serve as another national wake-up call. Every high-profile abduction demonstrates not only the courage of criminal groups but also the vulnerability of our institutions. If judges are unsafe in their homes, what confidence can ordinary citizens have? Ultimately, the question Nigerians continue to ask is painfully simple: when will the kidnappings end? We are beginning to sound like a broken record.
The answer depends on whether we are prepared to move beyond temporary responses towards comprehensive reforms that match the scale and sophistication of today’s security threats. It requires political will, institutional coordination, sustained investment in intelligence and technology, stronger criminal justice systems and genuine partnership between government and citizens.
A nation cannot fulfil its economic potential or democratic promise while fear dictates the daily lives of its people. Restoring security is therefore not simply about defeating criminals. It is about restoring confidence in the Nigerian state itself.
Until that confidence is rebuilt, every successful kidnapping is more than an isolated crime. It is a reminder that, somewhere between the promises of security and the lived reality of Nigerians, something fundamental remains broken.
Olufunke Baruwa by Olufunke Baruwa